How the West Was (Almost) Lost
by TheNewIdea
Summary: What began as a simple dinner one November evening turned into one they would never forget as the Griffins, Ernie the Giant Chicken, Jasper and Quagmire are transported back in time to 1888 California. As they try to find a way back home, they meet their ancestors and accidentally get involved with a notorious group of bandits plaguing their town.
1. Prologue Part One

Prologue Part One: An Unexpected Dinner Party

It began on a quiet November evening. The Griffins were sitting around the kitchen table having dinner, it was meatloaf. Peter was talking about his latest activities, he was working on a fantasy football league with Quagmire.

"It's going to be really great" Peter said as he stuffed meatloaf down his throat

"It sounds like fun Peter" Lois agreed, "Just don't let it go to your head. It's just a game after all."

Peter nodded, taking Lois' advice. Lois eyed him carefully, for despite this nod of reassurance she knew from experience that it would undoubtedly go to Peter's head at some point and that most likely she would have to get him out of whatever trouble he got in.

Across the table, Chris and Brian, for a change of pace, were discussing school, the dog having taken an interest in Chris' education.

"Do what you feel is right Chris" Brian said encouragingly, "If you think you should play football, then play football. If art's your thing, draw a picture, act in a play, as long as you're happy that's all that matters."

Chris shrugged and shook his head, still unable to make a decision. On one hand more than anything he wanted to fit in with his peers, but on other, he felt the need to express himself. It was a double-edged sword, if he took to art, his peers would shun him. If he took football, he would be denying himself. Meg, who was sitting between him and Peter at the head of the table, turned to Chris to voice her opinion.

"I think you should try the art stuff" she said as she forked down a mouthful of food, having gotten her table manners from her father, "Who cares what those other guys think of you? They're a bunch of assholes anyway."

Chris nodded, thankful that Meg and Brian actually took an interest in his wellbeing.

The turning of the tumblers and the opening of the front door followed. Seconds later, a familiar energetic and slightly overenthusiastic voice filled the air. Brian, at hearing it, could only smile and laugh a bit to himself, for he knew it to be Jasper.

"Hi ho family" Jasper exclaimed as he walked through the door, "So…what are we having?"

Lois turned to Jasper and then to Brian, the latter only shrugged out of partial embarrassment.

"Sorry Lois" Brian said sheepishly, "This past week has been so crazy, I forgot to mention that Jasper's dropping in. I hope you don't mind."

Lois shook her head absentmindedly, for this wasn't the first time that Jasper came in unexpectedly and from the look of things this wouldn't be the last. Just as Lois moved to get a chair, Jasper got down on the floor, between Meg and Chris and smiled, with the casual lifting of his paw he stopped her in her tracks.

"No need Lois" Jasper replied with a laugh, "I'm content with taking the floor, you shouldn't have to get up for me."

Lois reluctantly resumed her seat and continued eating.

The evening continued as normal with conversations switching from sports, television shows, and people of the town. Uneasy topics like politics and religion were graciously avoided, everyone silently agreeing that this particular dinner was to be entirely based on goodwill, warmness and family matters.

That philosophy lasted for twenty minutes.

A nervous and rushed knocking came at the door, causing the whole household to turn towards the door, partly out of fear and partly out of curiosity. Peter slowly stood up and carefully picked up the closest thing he could find, a frying pan, he then motioned to Brian to follow. Brian nodded and slid underneath the table, brushing past Jasper and appearing out the other side. When he was back on his feet, Brian opened the nearest drawer, reached into a personal hiding place and pulled out a gun he had bought for home invasion purposes.

"Jesus Christ Brian" Peter whispered as soon as he saw the gun, "What were you going to do with that?"

Brian shrugged as he inserted the half loaded clip, strapping a fully loaded one to himself with a single piece of duct tape.

"I don't know" he replied, "Kill the guy maybe?"

The knocking only increased in intensity, prompting Peter and Brian to peer out into the living room and slowly make their way towards the door.

"What is wrong with you?" Peter asked in turn, keeping his voice down to a whisper "How about knocking him out? Or scaring the guy away before you go blasting people off the Earth? That's how you end with lawsuits and jail time!"

Brian laughed, "I'm not afraid" he defended, "Now are we going to do something about this guy or not?"

The knocking continue, this time it was shorter, almost like rapping. Peter moved to the other side of the door, and slowly moved his hand towards the doorknob. Brian, in response, aimed down sight, turning off the safety.

The door opened.

Brian didn't even move, the darkness of the night outside, as well as a steady rainfall temporarily concealed the front porch. Firing without knowing who the person was would cause unnecessary tragedy and the last thing Brian wanted to do was face jail time or worse, euthanasia.

"Who are you?" Brian asked the figure standing on the front porch, looking towards Peter, who readied his frying pan in anticipation.

"Who are you?" a male voice asked in turn, from the sound of things whoever it was was decently educated, possibly college, at the very least with a high school diploma or GED, but voices can be deceptive both ways.

"Brian Griffin" Brian asked, "The guy who's about to shoot a cap in your ass if you don't tell me what the hell is it you're doing here."

Peter gave Brian a glaring look, Brian smiled sheepishly, unintentionally giving Peter's location away. The figure looked to its left, causing Peter to spring out from behind the door and swing.

The body fell forward into the living room, defying the Newton's Laws for a moment and revealing it to be that of Ernie the Giant Chicken.

"Holy shit Peter" Brian exclaimed, "You killed him!"

Peter shook his head as he knelt down, checking Ernie's neck for a pulse.

"And shooting him wasn't going to?" Peter replied, "He's knocked out but he's not dead, at least not yet."

Brian relaxed, turning the safety on, ejecting the clip and the checking the chamber before setting it on the ground. The dog then motioned towards the couch.

"Let's move him to the couch" Brian suggested, "We can figure out what to do with him later."

Peter groaned, for he was half tempted to leave the chicken where he was, he saw no reason to be hospitable, but for the sake of his family, Peter complied with the request. Once Ernie was settled, unconscious but still breathing, Lois walked in the room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Lois asked, her voice raised to uncomfortable levels as she looked around the room, her eyes resting on the couch, "Who is that on our couch Peter?"

Peter sighed and shook his head.

"That's the Chicken" Peter explained

Lois only looked at him as if he were mentally insane, to an outsider, this was an appropriate response.

"Peter" Lois began, in no mood for jokes, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Peter rolled his eyes, for he absolutely dreaded the day when he would have to have this conversation.

"_The_ Chicken" Peter continued, "You seriously don't know?"

Lois turned to Brian for clarification, the dog only shrugged, just as confused as Lois was on the subject. Peter pointed towards the kitchen.

When they entered the kitchen they were pleased to find Jasper doing his best to comfort the kids by making as many faces as he could, when he ran out of those he proceeded to do a short mime routine.

"That's pretty good Jasper" Peter commented, causing him to stop and look in his general direction.

"Who was it?" Jasper asked curiously, "No one dangerous I hope."

Peter huffed, for he had his own opinions on Ernie, for the moment he kept them to himself, for that was purpose of what he was about to do. Sitting back down in his seat, Brian and Lois following suit, Peter slowly continued eating and began his version of the chicken fights.

"That lousy son of bitch whose unconscious in our living room" Peter began, "Is the chicken who single-handedly ruined my trust in coupons, pies, airline travel, plastic spoons and my Saturday mornings."

Stewie, who could never hold anything in the way of attention when Peter started telling stories, pulled his way up out of his highchair and onto the floor, heading up to his room. Brian, guessing what Stewie was doing, followed, taking extra care to avoid the couch and to make as little noise as possible.

By the time Brian reached Stewie's room, he found Stewie tampering and tinkering with his time machine, in his right arm he was holding Rupert.

"What are you doing?" Brian asked, partially chastising "Dinner isn't exactly over yet, you can't just leave in the middle of it, it's extremely rude."

Stewie rolled his eyes, "And since when did you care about table manners dog?" he asked, "I can do what I want, when I want and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Brian shook his head, he wasn't going to argue with him, for he knew from experience that it was an argument that he would lose 100% of the time.

"So what exactly are you doing?" Brian continued, restating his question.

Stewie groaned, personally hating the fact that Brian was getting into his business, but then again, it was be expected to some degree.

"If you must know I'm making calibrations to the time machine" Stewie replied

"What sort of calibrations?" Brian pressed

"Do you always ask pointless questions?" Stewie said annoyingly, "Why don't you just shut up and see for yourself?"

Brian sighed, on a personal level he was getting tired of time travel, mostly because it was always the same periods, in the same places. If anything he wanted a little variety, a little adventure.

"If it's the Renaissance, the Industrial Revolution or World War II you can forget Stewie" Brian answered, "Because I absolutely refuse to get involved in artist's lives, see the invention of things that we've had for years or be locked up in a concentration camp…again. Now if you don't mind, I'm going back downstairs because unlike you I actually like my family."

Stewie huffed and lazily placed Rupert on the control panel and stepped out of the machine heading towards the door. He didn't even get three steps from it when he heard the distinct sound of the time machine activating as Rupert fell on the switch, sending the bear back in time.

"No, no, no!" Stewie screamed as he ran towards the machine, only to be held back by Brian, "Rupert! Rupert!"

Brian did everything that he knew how to do to get Stewie to calm down-singing, rocking, terms of endearment, and even dancing. Most of his efforts were futile for Stewie only continued to struggle, the more he struggled the more desperate Brian became.

"Stewie!" Brian exclaimed, "Stewie, get a hold of yourself!"

Stewie either didn't hear him or refused to.

"We have to get him back Brian!" Stewie continued, "We have to get him back!"

Brian rolled his eyes as turned Stewie around and did the last resort. Crossing his fingers and even praying to God for a few seconds Brian resisted the urge to vomit dinner as he brought his lips to Stewie's, giving him the weirdest french kiss that he ever gave in his life. He broke away immediately facing a confused and half starry-eyed Stewie.

"Do it again Brian" Stewie replied lovingly.

Brian, who realized that he was holding Stewie off the ground, dropped him as carelessly as he could and moved towards the time machine.

"We take that to our graves you hear me?" Brian declared as he rubbed his tongue in an attempt to wipe Stewie's germs away, "And don't get used to that either. It was a onetime thing!"

Stewie smiled and silently laughed to himself.

"Sure it was" Stewie replied, "Now back to business. Let's go get Rupert eh?"

Brian could only nod as he stepped into the machine, he hoped that it wouldn't take too much time, especially with Jasper and now an unconscious Ernie in the house. Stewie climbed inside, activated the switch and the two disappeared.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Might as well get this out of the way now. I will not be entirely historically accurate. All of you people expecting this to be a deep and well thought out story, will only be half satisfied. This is not for you, it is meant for entertainment purposes only and will treated as such.


	2. Prologue Part Two

Prologue Part Two: Everyone in Quahog is Inbred

**Hodgenville, California**

**1888**

**10:00 pm**

Hodgenville was one of those one street towns. Everything, from the saloon, to the doctor's office, to the general store, was on a single stretch of road. The houses that were on site were more like apartment complexes than anything else, two or sometimes three families, each with up to three to four members per group, lived in a single building depending on how big it was. Most of the citizens of Hodgenville, those who didn't own businesses, for their houses were above their stores, lived on the outskirts of town in ranch houses.

The local saloon, _The Drunken Horse_, rested on the corner lot, next to the doctor's office and across from city hall. Inside to the immediate right of the door, was the beginning of the bar counter which sat up to six people. This continued for about ten feet, until the counter stopped, making space for a door to a back room, a small hallway that lead to the bathrooms and finally the piano up against the wall that ran with the stairs to the second floor. To the left of the door was a poker table, nestled safely in the corner, running along the side wall was a blackjack table, five-finger fillet, and dice. Most of these game tables were against the row of windows, also on the side wall. Scattered in various places around the room were small tables, big enough for four people to sit comfortably.

Brian and Stewie appeared in the back of the room, right next to the blackjack table. They got the occasional glance from a patron or two, but most were either too drunk, too engrossed in games, or sex to care.

"Okay then" Stewie declared, "Let's go find Rupert."

Brian extended his arm, stopping Stewie.

"Hold it John Wayne" Brian replied, "Let's get our bearings first. Besides it could be anywhere."

"He" Stewie corrected, "_He_ could be anywhere. And what's with the John Wayne reference?"

Brian shrugged and looked around, hoping that it would be enough justification for the reference. Stewie only huffed annoyingly, feeling nothing but pity for the dog and his attempt to be funny. In any other circumstance he would have laughed, but when Rupert was concerned, Stewie was always all business.

"Whatever dog" Stewie said coldly, "We'll do it your way. Besides he can't have gotten far."

Just as they were about to start looking under tables and asking patrons, two uncomfortably familiar faces stumbled their way into the saloon, already drunk. The first was a portly man in his mid-30's, he was wearing the typical rancher's outfit of the day-whit button up shirt, pants, a black vest and a straw hat. His glasses were thinly framed and looked easily breakable. His face was pudgy, as if he were made of stuffing or cookie dough. The second was a slightly older gentlemen with a head that appeared too big for his body. He was dressed in a standard white business suit, his gold watch that he wore on his wrist gave him the look of someone important. Even the way he walked when drunk carried with it a certain dignity.

"You know something Forrest?" the first said drunkenly to the second, "For a Mayor you're pretty…pretty…"

Forrest could only laugh in response, "I am pretty aren't I?" he replied as he let out a loud hiccup, the beginning of the loss of control that eventually comes with drunkenness, "Thank you…Elias…you're a real…friend."

Brian and Stewie could only look on as the two men made their way to the counter and ordered whiskey.

"Is it me or do those guys look uncomfortably familiar?" Brian said to Stewie, who only nodded in agreement.

"Fat-Man and Quagmire" Stewie replied

Brian found an empty table and took the closest chair that faced the counter, Stewie followed suit and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, glancing around the room to try and not make his observation too obvious.

"It's weird though" Brian continued, "That these guys would look _exactly_ like em. Now I'm not a genealogist but isn't that close to impossible or something?"

Stewie shrugged, unfortunately genealogy was not in his skill set either; nevertheless, he had to agree, it was next to impossible that Peter and Quagmire's ancestors looked, and for that matter, sounded, exactly like their present day counterparts.

"It's like all the Fat-Man's cutaways" Stewie exclaimed uneasily, "Only real."

Elias and Forrest had just finished their third shot of whiskey when Brian and Stewie made their way over, Brian taking the stool next to Elias and Stewie in a closer table with an older gentlemen and his mistress, both of them brandishing the familiar faces of Joe and Bonnie Swanson. The only difference that Stewie could see was that this Joe, who probably wasn't really a Joe, for he looked like a Bill or perhaps a John, had a handlebar mustache. As for the mistress, the only difference that Stewie could see was the bright annoyingly yellow sun dress she was wearing despite that it was several months out of season and was overrun with lace.

_"This explains a little too much"_ Stewie thought to himself, _"Let's just hope that the Stewie of this time period isn't a mirror image of me. But looking at Fat-Man, I highly doubt that he will be."_

Brian tapped the counter and was immediately slid a shot of whiskey by the bartender on the other side of the room. Brian resisted the urge to drink it, mostly because he questioned the water that was used to make it. To avoid looking awkward Brian turned to Elias and attempted to strike a conversation.

"How's it going partner?" Brian said, putting on a little bit of Southern twang, the accent that he thought as being acquainted with the West.

Elias turned around, his eyes were bloodshot red, it was clear that in a few seconds he would be so inebriated that standing, cohort speech, and most likely consciousness, would end for the night. Elias smiled a weak smile, trying his best not to vomit anything.

"Hey!" Elias said, screaming, being a loud drunkard, "What are you…doing here? Go home Sheep, you know that dogs aren't-aren't allowed in here."

Brian raised his eyebrows curiously, confused having no idea what he was talking about.

"I'm sorry did you just call me a sheep?" Brian asked, "Because I am not a sheep. I am a dog. Two completely different things, but then again you're probably too drunk to even know the difference."

Brian extended his hand carefully in a handshake, Elias reached for it, but only managed to slap it continuously, his brain no longer able to grasp anything but the glass he was loosely holding.

"Oh you're one of those guys huh?" Brian continued, "Okay. We can do the thing if you want."

Brian, more to humor himself than anything, slapped Elias' hand back and forth a few times, after this he closed his hand for a fist bump, a concept that he knew Elias wouldn't understand drunk or sober. Brian, keeping his fist up in anticipation, turned towards Stewie, who was trying desperately to stay awake.

"Hey kid" Brian exclaimed, causing Stewie to turn around, "Check this out."

Stewie wiped his eyes for a few seconds and yawned. Standing from his chair he walked towards Brian and Elias.

"It'd better be important" Stewie said grumpily

Brian laughed, "Looks like someone's past his bedtime" he said jokingly, "You wanna go home? We can look for it tomorrow."

Stewie shook his head, he wasn't leaving until he found Rupert, he didn't care how long it took or where he had to go. He wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that Rupert was somewhere else, possibly with someone else, keeping them company.

"Come on Brian" Stewie exclaimed as he made his way to the door, "We'll find him ourselves. We don't need these drunken idiots."

Brian smiled and casually laughed, he held his hand up for a few more seconds before giving up and jumping down from the stool and making his way outside.

Once they were out on the street, each taking a side, they began searching for Rupert. Stewie passed the doctor's office, looking in every window to see if he could see the bear. The office was dark, making a proper search impossible without breaking and entering.

Stewie casually made his way to the door and began kicking it in.

Brian meanwhile, passed the general store. Glancing in the window, he saw two things that caught his eye. The first was a teddy bear resting on a low shelf, it wasn't exactly like Rupert, for it was grey instead of brown, but it would make for a substitute. The second was the shopkeeper, slumped over the counter as if he were sleeping. Brian tried for the door, upon finding it open, the dog, as quietly and carefully as possible, crept towards the shelf and grabbed the bear. He immediately thought about paying for it, but then he remembered that he didn't have anything in the way of 1880's currency, for paying with modern day money would cause the universe to explode, at least according to Stewie and Doc Brown from _Back to the Future._

Brian turned towards the shopkeeper and sniffed the air. Nothing was unusual. When he reached him, he recognized the face to be that of a 19th Century Mort Goldman. After tapping his shoulder and getting no response, Brian turned Mort over, discovering a small bullet sized hole in between his eyes. In his head Brian immediately thought of the old horror movies in which the killer stuck around to get as many bodies as it could under its belt.

Capitalizing on this fear, Brian searched the shelves for anything in the way of dye, planning on disguising the bear and pass it off as Rupert until he could buy a proper replacement.

"There is no way that I'm risking my life for a stupid bear Stewie" Brian said to himself at the same time practicing what he was going to say when he was eventually found out, "If you were in my position you'd do the same. Especially when there's a psycho killer around somewhere looking to-"

Brian was cut off by Stewie, who was standing at the door, breathing heavily and sweating. Turning his back to the wall in an effort to hide the bear and ultimately placing it back on the shelf, Brian gave a sheepish smile and slowly moved towards the door.

"Hey buddy" Brian said nervously as he reached the door, forcing Stewie on the porch, "Any luck finding it?"

Stewie shook his head in defeat and looked hopefully towards Brian, saying nothing.

"Come on kid" Brian replied encouragingly, "Let's get out of here. We can look tomorrow."

Stewie shook head again, clear in his resolve. Brian only sighed in disbelief and gently touched Stewie's shoulder.

"Look at you" Brian continued, "You're exhausted...hell we both are. What do you say to getting out of here?"

Stewie brushed past Brian and entered the store, seconds later a crash and the sound of broken glass followed, causing Brian's previous fears to multiply by infinity, in his head he was already thinking of a eulogy that he wouldn't have the strength to give if his fears were proven correct.

He rushed in to find broken nick-knacks, bottles, wooden toys and boxes of food strewn all over the place. Stewie was bleeding, a result of destroying most of the goods in the shelf.

"We are not leaving here until we find him" Stewie declared once again, "I don't care what I have to do to get him back. I don't care if I have to kill someone, I'll do it. Without a second-"

This had gone on far enough. Brian, to end the madness, moved towards Stewie, with full intention of forcing the return pad, which he hoped he had, from him. He didn't get five steps in when he felt the cold muzzle of a gun against his temple.

"Any particular reason why you boys are in my business?" a male voice, gruff, hard, and a little drunk, exclaimed.

Brian slowly raised his hands in surrender, Stewie slowly pulled out the return pad from his back pocket.

"No sir" Brian declared, "Sorry to disturb you. If you don't mind we'll just be going now."

Brian tried to turn around, he was stopped by the pulling back of the gun's hammer.

"You have three seconds to get back where you came from before I blow your brains out."

Brian nodded and slowly walked forward. Stewie pulled out the return pad and set it down on the floor, activating it on contact. With a tear in his eye Stewie stepped on, Brian followed. No questions were asked, no words were said. Just the quick movements of shuffled feet.

When they disappeared the owner of the voice sheathed his gun moved towards the body, picking it up. In its place he left a note that read: E 25-17. As he carried Mort's body towards the door, he casually whistled Camptown Races to himself, saying nothing as he closed the door behind him.


End file.
